Page 6 of Nightmare

“What happened to drinking all our problems away?” I repeat her words from less than an hour ago, desperately trying to change the subject.

“I just want you to be you again. Like before,” she murmurs, pushing the knife in deeper. “I mean…I know your boyfriend was a crazy motherfucker but at least you were happy.”

“Wow,” I say. “Thanks, Andie.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” I tell her, even though it’s not.

I know she’s not trying to hurt me, but I’m getting really sick of talking about this. It’s bad enough that he won’t leave my head. I don’t need to keep hashing it all out in real life over and over again.

“Holy fuck.”

“What?” I mutter, not looking at her as I start to mix myself a vodka soda.

“Vi.”

I frown at the panic in her voice, lifting my head to find her staring at something behind me. I follow her eyes and look over my shoulder, my mouth agape when I realize what spooked her.

My traitorous heart leaps up to my throat, and it feels like I’m choking on it as he stares right into my eyes, smirking and shirtless and handing out pills to a group of guys just a few feet away from me.

Atticus.

CHAPTER 3

ATTICUS

Her pretty lips form the shape of my name, and I almost forget how badly I want to hurt her.

She looks fucking stunning, her dead straight, dark brown hair teasing her elbows, her tits damn near falling out of the black, cropped tank top she’s wearing. Taking my time, I slowly move my eyes down to her navel, to the pale strip of bare skin just above her waistband, and then down to the sexy black leather skirt she’s wearing. It’s so short I bet you can see her little pink hole when she bends over.

Fuck.

I take my lip between my teeth when I get to the chunky heeled combat boots on her feet, those fucking fishnet tights she knows I love so much, and I promise myself right here and now I’m gonna rip those off her before the sun rises tomorrow.

She’ll be a hot fucking mess by the time I’m done, just the way I like her.

Just then, her feet take a step backward as if she can read all the thoughts running through my head. I snap my eyes back up to her face, finding her pale blue ones filled with unshed tears as she stares at me like she’s seen a ghost.

I’m not a ghost, baby.

Not yet, at least. The only way she’ll ever get rid of me like that is if she takes a knife and shoves it through my chest.

She quickly turns around and gives me her back, and I toss the big bag of pills I’m holding to the random guy in front of me. “Hand these out,” I tell him, slapping him on the back before I make my way through the crowd around me.

I catch up to my girl before she can run and lock my arm around her middle, pulling her back to my chest and dipping my head to press my nose into her hair. She’s stiff against me, her breath hitching when I cup her pussy with my free hand, a quiet growl escaping me when I realize she’s not wearing a thong beneath these tights.

I knew she wouldn’t be.

“Atty…”

God. Hearing her say my name like that after so long is like a shot of heroin to my system.

I know she can feel how hard she’s making me against her ass, and it’s taking everything in me not to sink my teeth into her neck and piss all over her right here. To mark her as mine for all to see.

Because that’s what she is.

“Mine,” I whisper into her ear, closing my eyes at the soft little whimper leaving her mouth. “Fuck, baby girl. I missed you so much.”

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